


Wait a Minute Mr. Postman

by zbalehchic



Category: The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: M/M, Mailman AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-04 07:50:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4130214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zbalehchic/pseuds/zbalehchic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Achilles had always suspected that deep inside, he was the worst kind of moron. He knew that he was good looking, and didn’t have a hard time making friends or finding dates. He had never felt interested enough in anyone to put himself on the line, but now here he was using the most obvious go-to mail themed song to get into a postman’s pants. <i>Great. </i></p><p>The Patrochilles!Mailman AU no one asked for!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wait a Minute Mr. Postman

It is a truth universally acknowledged that hitting on your local postman is risky business. All you need is the common sense that if you make one dumb comment, and drop the wrong pick up line you now have to live in extreme embarrassment anytime you get mail that you have to sign for. Achilles isn’t the brightest person, but he is aware enough to realize he’s in deep trouble.

He’d been coming back home from his usual morning run, and there was some hot guy putting letters in his mailbox. This was not the regular mailman, who was always looking tired and eternally angry, barely returning Achilles’ bright smiles and avoiding all chitchat, opting instead for short grunts. This new mailman didn’t look much older than Achilles, and he had a nice face and really filled out his uniform and Achilles was on a kind of high. He stood there in his ridiculously short shorts, his hair tied up, all sweaty, and he had the gall to try and flirt. And of course he had to go and make the worst kind of first impression, singing “Please Mr. Postman” at the guy as soon as he managed to turn around. Achilles had always suspected that deep inside, he was the worst kind of moron. He knew that he was good looking, and didn’t have a hard time making friends or finding dates. He had never felt interested enough in anyone to put himself on the line, but now here he was using the most obvious go-to mail themed song to get into a postman’s pants. _Great._

Luckily, the boy just laughed and told Achilles he’d never gotten that before. They stayed awkwardly standing in front of the door, Achilles noticing that the boy’s eyes had shifted to look down at his extremely exposed legs. He coughed and put his hand out, “I’m the new mailman for this route. Patroclus.”

“Achilles. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you lots, I really love… Packages.”

No, he was _definitely_ the worst kind of moron.

Patroclus just laughed again and was gone, leaving Achilles to replay the entire unbelievably humiliating encounter and wonder if he should just move house.

Achilles decided it would be too much to keep “accidentally” seeing Patroclus every morning. He changed his running schedule to an earlier time so he could be back in time to shower and appear somewhat decent. Just in case. Unfortunately, Achilles didn’t get a lot of mail that required him to open the door to receive it.

Having a lot of money had never really made him excited, but once he realized he could buy stuff online and get it _delivered_ , and he would need to take it from his local postman, he was thankful for his father’s seemingly unlimited wealth. At first, he ordered things he needed. Why not get his basic needs delivered right to his front door? Unfortunately, Achilles didn’t anticipate the black hole that is the world of online shopping. One link led to another and another, and next thing he was ordering criminal amounts of gummy bears, a Nicolas Cage pillowcase, and a zombie survival kit.

It was the perfect plan however, as Patroclus was now forced to presents him with these deliveries, sometimes needing his signature. By some miracle, Achilles managed to not mortify himself, and did not use any post office themed jokes, puns, or flirtations. Patroclus always looked like sunshine, and he was kind and he liked Achilles’ dog and petted him, and sometimes baby talk would slip out. Achilles had spent upsetting amounts of money, and one of his rooms was almost completely full of boxes of varying sizes, most of them unopened. But whenever he opened the door and saw Patroclus standing there in his scandalously sexy uniform, he convinced himself it was worth it.

After weeks of this, Achilles decides he’s ordered enough packages and made an acceptable amount of small talk to get to the big question. So the next day when there’s a knock at his door, he’s ready. Patroclus is standing there, looking fine in a way that mailmen really shouldn’t. And he’s smiling like he’s had goddamn lessons on How to Kill People With Your Beautiful Smile. It’s a little disorienting, but Achilles takes the package, takes a deep breath and plunges into the conversation.

“Hey, Pat… can I ask you something about your, um, occupation?”

“Of course.”

“Do you have like… Uh. You know. Mailman client privacy… Something. Like… Can the mailman date a person he’s delivering mail to?”

Achilles regrets this line of questioning immediately. _Who the hell even asks this?_ But Patroclus looks like he’s genuinely pondering it and finally says, “You know what, they never brought it up in orientation.”

“Really? Well that’s interesting. I mean-“ He’s going to do it. He’s already dug himself in this deep. “I mean, let’s say it’s fine as far as occupation rules and all that. What about ethically? You start dating your mailman, and what if he’s treating your mail better than the neighbours’? Like he’s taking good care of your packages, but banging around everyone else’s ‘Handle with Care’ boxes. And that’s not even the worst of it!” _Stop Achilles shut the fuck up what are you doing._ Even the dog has appeared and is nudging him, warning him to just stop now.

“I mean, if you break up, what a mess! What if they don’t deliver your mail anymore? You’ll never see another package from your mom ever again! And they know where you live! I mean, not giving you your mail is one thing but what if… I mean they can leave dog shit on your doorstep! And set it on fire! You would have to move. You can’t live your life with irregular mail delivery and the constant threat of opening your door to a pile of crap on fire. You know?”

He’s breathing really hard now and his face feels hot. Patroclus is looking at him like he’s insane and just nods his head slowly, saying something about finishing his round. Achilles goes back inside, and the dog is giving him a knowing look.

“For fuck’s sake… I know all right. I fucked up.”

Achilles finally stops ordering things online, so there’s no knocking and no need to have to face Patroclus again. He can definitely live his life without seeing that guy again, and who knows, maybe he’ll quit. It’s not like a young guy is going to stay his mailman forever… Right? Maybe he _would_ have to move.

Two weeks after the interrogation fiasco, someone is knocking on his door. It’s a Saturday, so he’s safe from any and all post office personnel. He’s in his pyjamas with milk down his front, and of course Patroclus is at the door. He’s in pedestrian clothes and, _dear god,_ Achilles is pretty sure he’s not receiving enough oxygen at the moment. He’s missed something that Patroclus said.

“Hey. Are you ok? You look kinda pale.”

“What? Oh. Yeah. Yes. Um. What?”

Patroclus just laughs and shakes his head and he’s- _is he BLUSHING?_

“I know this is weird but I don’t have your number or anything, so this is the only way I could really talk to you.”

“You want to talk to me?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Uh. Are you sure?”

“I’m pretty sure, yeah.”

Achilles invites him in and brings him coffee at the kitchen table. He’s not sure what to do. The hot mailman is inside his house, sitting on his chair. Maybe he’s here to file a restraining order. Patroclus takes a few huge gulps of coffee, and clears his throat.

“So, I was thinking about your question. And I actually did some research and asked around. And it is in fact acceptable for a mailman to date their, er, client.”

_Okay Achilles, calm down._

“And you’re totally right, I mean about the possible disadvantages. You shouldn’t have to suffer not getting mail from your mom. And flaming poo is no joke, it’s good to have a healthy fear of that.”

They’re both just staring at each other, Achilles realizing that he’s been bobbing his head in a vigorous nod for quite some time now.

“So, what I’m saying is,” Patroclus continues, “Well I just think it would be worth the risk. And I’m not really the type to seek out dog shit for revenge purposes.”

 _Maybe this is a dream?_ He probably hasn’t woken up yet. Hot mailman cannot possibly be in his kitchen, insinuating that they should date. Did he forget that the first thing Achilles ever even said to him was the cheesiest song on earth? He’s in the middle of convincing himself that this is a joke. Patroclus must’ve told his mailman buddies about him, how excruciatingly stupid he was, and now they were all playing a trick on him. They must be waiting outside. Maybe Patroclus is even wired with a microphone. He sees a hand waving in front of him, and Patroclus touches his arm lightly. _Achilles just fucking chill._

“Hey? Hello? Achilles? Are you-“

“Yeah. Yes. I am willing to take the risk.” He blurts back.

Was his entire life from now on going to be regrets about what ends up coming out of his mouth? Maybe he will just stop talking forever. But Patrcolus is giving him one of his ridiculous smiles, and writing his number on a napkin and telling Achilles to call him.

He walks Patroclus out, still mildly convinced that he’s going to see a group of postmen on his lawn pointing and laughing, but of course there’s no one.

“Call me soon, okay?” Patroclus says as he’s leaving, waving at Achilles.

Achilles is waving back, a little too enthusiastically, when his dog comes to stand next to him, looking up.

“What did I tell you Chiron? I got this.”

**Author's Note:**

> I was once waiting for the bus and there was a UPS truck parked there and I turned to my roommate who was with me and said that a Patrochilles Mailman AU would be GREAT, and so here we are. I wanted to extend this fic but I think it's good and fun like this, but just know that YES Achilles would never fucking shut up with all the mailman jokes and he would say cheesy stuff during sex like "Oh yes, please deliver me Mr. Postman" or something. 
> 
> p.s. I did some research and ended up on some very exciting forums and let me just tell you.... don't piss off your mailman.


End file.
